


oh orpheus (it's over too soon)

by Dawn_Blossom



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Grima goes to Hel to get Chrom's soul, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_Blossom/pseuds/Dawn_Blossom
Summary: As Grima falls in step behind Eir, Hel’s voice rings like the chilling wind in her ears.“Be careful, Grima,” she whispers. “Never look back. If you do, you will never be able to return to that life of yours.”





	oh orpheus (it's over too soon)

**Author's Note:**

> I love the new FEH OCs and I love being edgy and I love finally being enabled to write this Orpheus & Eurydice AU that I've been vaguely playing around with for several months now (the only thing keeping me from writing it was that nobody in Fire Emblem seemed to fit the role of Hades very well... unTIL NOW)
> 
> "But Dawn, shouldn't you wait until the game fleshes out Eir and Hel's characters? Y'know, so they don't look OOC in hindsight?" Yeah, but I didn't feel like waiting. If they end up being OOC later, oh well. Chalk it up to alternate universes.
> 
> Title is from [It's Never Over (Hey Orpheus)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7-tEZUvdUw) by Arcade Fire.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic! Even though I'm writing major character death again :( Writing Grima just calls for it sometimes...

Grima has won. The continent of Ylisse has been utterly ruined; the few individual survivors will die soon enough, if not by her hand then by starvation.The last member of the Exalted bloodline has perished, and now there is no one to stop her from razing the rest of the world to the ground at her leisure. 

At her side are her Risen soldiers, led by the Risen King, the one who once ruled Ylisse and dared to command Grima herself in battle. He is her greatest weapon and her greatest trophy all in one, and the sight of him alone ought to remind her of her triumph.

And yet she is not satisfied. She does not enjoy looking into his empty eyes.. She feels little but contempt for the rest of the Risen; they are naught but insect-ridden corpses, after all. But when she sees the Risen King, she feels…

Distaste.

There is no triumph to be had in commanding insects. Yes, that must be the problem. Despite her perfection of the physical process, she does not know how to restore the souls of the Risen she creates. Chrom’s soul is not inside that body; the human she used to know is not here now to see her reign. She cannot show him how foolish he was to believe in humanity, to believe that the stupid, selfish beings could ever get along for long enough to stand the slightest chance of defeating her. Chrom thought that people were so wonderful. Oh, how she would love to show him a continent’s worth of proof of his folly.

But she cannot. His soul is not here, and his body is a poor substitute. She may as well sing her own praises to her tomes, for none of the creatures that reside with her are any better than mindless tools.

What if it didn’t have to be that way, though? Souls are not so easily destroyed, and Chrom has not been dead for _too_ many years.

What if she could get his soul back?

Ha, “what if”? She is a god. She _will_ get his soul back.

It does not seem to be a terribly difficult thing to do, she soon realizes. She has the power to travel through space and time. All she has to do is find the realm of the dead, find Chrom’s soul, and find a way to drag it back out with her. The rest should be simple. She even has his body right here waiting for him.

With this goal in mind, she sets to work. The existence of Hel, the realm of the dead, is well-documented, but the details of getting there are not so clear. Humans have typically stumbled upon the pathway by chance; they have not the strength to open the gate between worlds on their own.

Grima, on the other hand, need not wander in the hopes of stumbling across a portal that will give her passage. She travels uninhibited by fighting (though she still keeps her Risen guards close) to the great Outrealm Gate, a place she doubts the continent’s few remaining humans have any idea about. Gazing into its depths, she can feel a current of magic running through her. Her own power surges in response, and she raises her hands as though offering a greeting.

“Take me to Hel,” she commands. “It holds that which belongs to me!”

The gate’s energy crackles, and in the swirling mass, a shimmering image of another word begins to take shape. Grima plunges her hands into the light, pushing her way forward. Her Risen howl and shriek behind her, but she wills them to be still. Corpses would do her no good in a fight against death.

As she is enveloped in the gate’s energy, she momentarily loses all sensation. There is no light, no wind, nothing but nothingness. And then—

Grima gasps as she comes to in a misty field.

The world around her is tinged a soft gray. A dull light shines from somewhere behind the thick clouds overhead, and Grima can see shadows moving on the horizon. Are they souls of the dead? Is Chrom among them somewhere?

“Pardon me…” a soft voice says from behind her. “But you shouldn’t be here.”

Grima whirls around to meet the pale eyes of a silver-haired girl.

“This is no place for the living,” she insists. “Please, you must go. Before…”

“Are you Hel?” Grima asks. 

The girl’s eyes widen, and she looks around wildly. When she doesn’t seem to find what she’s looking for, she sighs.

“No. I am her daughter, Eir,” she says. “But…”

“I have business to do here,” Grima interrupts. “If your mother wishes to see me, I would greet her. Otherwise, I will be here and gone as soon as I have found the soul I seek.”

“I know what you’re here to do!” Eir exclaims nervously. “You’re not the first, you know… Many have tried to bring back their lost loved ones. And I would offer you sympathy, truly, but we don’t just let people—”

“Now, now, Eir…” The shadow of a woman appears in the fog behind Eir. “This guest of ours is rather special.”

A second later, the woman emerges fully. Her long, silvery hair is similar to Eir’s, but her face is far less… human. Her skeleton is visible behind apparition-like skin, and when she places a hand on Eir’s head, Grima cannot tell if her gloves conceal bones or claws.

“Mother…” Eir whispers, leaning into the touch. “Do you know her?”

“So _you_ are Hel,” Grima says, narrowing her eyes. 

“Indeed,” the woman says. “I must say, I did not expect to see you. It is so difficult to tempt your kind into my realm. Though, I suppose you are not fully a divine dragon.”

Grima grits her teeth. She would protest, only she is not so stupid as to challenge death in its own domain. 

“You know what I have come for,” she says. “I will not leave without it.”

Hel laughs.

“Oh, that is very true,” she says. “Were you anyone else, I would take your soul where you stand. But, hmm…”

Eir stares at Grima, a worried glimmer in her eyes. But Grima does not fear anything, especially not death—the universe’s one true equalizer.

“You’ve given me thousands of gifts in the past year, haven’t you,” Hel murmurs. “Why, I couldn’t have taken more souls if I’d sent my own daughter to do the job.”

Eir shifts on her feet, but says nothing.

“I can let you borrow one soul,” Hel continues. “After all, you will both come back to me soon enough.”

Grima grimaces. She knows that the great equalizer will someday come for her, too. But it will take eons. Eons that she could spend with Chrom as her servant, ruling a better world than what the humans had made of it.

“Thank you, Hel,” Grima says.

Hel smiles. Grima has never seen a more grotesque sight.

“The man you seek has long awaited the day he would see you again,” she says. “Eir will escort you to him at once.”

“Yes.” Eir steps to Grima’s side. “I will see you to him, and Lyfja will see the two of you back to the realm of the living.” 

She holds up her blade.

“Lyfja offers death to those who seek it,” she says. “But to those who wish to live, it offers compassion instead. It will take you away from this place when you are ready.”

As Grima falls in step behind Eir, Hel’s voice rings like the chilling wind in her ears.

“Be careful, Grima,” she whispers. “Never look back. If you do, you will never be able to return to that life of yours.”

Grima shivers, but nods, keeping her face forward. It is a simple order, and she will not fail. Not when she is so close to having everything she’s ever desired.

Eir is quiet as they walk. Grima cannot discern a path, but there is no doubt that the Princess of Hel knows exactly where she’s going. She walks with purpose, the glow of her blade parting the fog like a lighthouse’s beam.

“He is here,” she finally says, gesturing up ahead. The fog parts, and that’s when Grima sees him.

His body is strange, a mixture of bone and a blue gelatinous substance that is only partially concealed by his clothing. He never did like to clothe himself properly, and it seems that death has not changed him in that regard. His face is largely covered by a mask, but his eyes… His eyes are exactly the same.

She does not realize that she has frozen in place until, suddenly, she finds that Chrom is wrapping his arms, unnatural as they are, around her back.

“Chrom…?” Grima asks. “What are you doing?”

This was not the reaction she expected. The last time he saw her, she was killing him.

“I’m sorry,” Chrom says. “I never meant to leave you alone.”

Grima takes a step back, pushing him away.

“Have you lost your mind?” she exclaims. “I murdered you in cold blood! And I… I’m only here to show you how much…. How much better the world is without you.”

She doesn’t understand it, but there are tears running down her cheeks. 

“My death wasn’t your fault,” he says. “Validar forced your hand. You never had the choice.”

“I would have picked a more painful death if I had!” Grima spits. “Stop spouting nonsense! I came here to take you as my servant, not to reminisce about the past!”

“I know,” Chrom says. “I saw you coming. Sometimes the dead watch over the living, you know.”

A gentle hand is placed against Grima’s back, but she does not turn to look. She is not stupid.

“He watched you every day and night,” Eir says quietly. “We don’t see many souls that dedicated.”

Grima frowns, wiping away more tears from her eyes.

“Then you’ve seen it,” she says. “What the world is like. How terrible humanity is. How they fell so quickly, so easily, without even making me break a sweat. The humans were so ready to turn on each other that I didn’t even have to do much. You see now that you could never have ruled in a world like that, don’t you? You would have been torn to shreds even if I had not gotten to you first.”

“I saw what happened, yes,” Chrom says. “You were disappointed, weren’t you?”

“Disappointed?” Grima echoes. “I… suppose so. Humans are a grave disappointment.”

“You didn’t want things to turn out this way,” Chrom says.

“Who would?” Grima grimaces.

“They didn’t have to,” Chrom says. “There are many ways to change the world, Grima. If I had lived, we could have made the world a better place together. And for that I am sorry. I failed a lot of people when I fell that day, but the one I most regret failing is you.”

“You didn’t... “ Grima scoffs. “I didn’t need your help,” she insists. “I made the world better on my own.”

“Did you?” Chrom asks.

“I…” Grima pauses.

Of course she did. Didn’t she?

“I purged the world of its problems,” Grima says. The humans were the problems.

“And what is left?” Chrom asks. “What remains for you in that world? What does it mean for you to rule over nothing?”

Grima scowls. When she looks back on everything she’s done, it all seems so… worthless. Humans turned the world hideous with their selfishness, greed, and cruelty. Chrom is right; she was disappointed. She could have helped them, if they weren’t all ungrateful, power-hungry beasts who cared only for their own gain, if they weren’t all arrogant fools who think every living creature owes them obedience, if there were even one human worth the effort of protecting… If there were some reason, any reason, not to destroy the world, she would love to hear it. But even Grima’s apocalypse hasn’t changed the humans’ behavior. So she will keep going and going until the humans change or die.

She assumes they will all die.

… And where does that leave them? Here, in the realm of the dead.

It was all for nothing, then. Her world will be devoid of humans, but they will all be here in Hel. Still selfish, still callous, still cruel. Still utterly disappointing. Grima hasn’t changed a thing.

“All the same, I’ll lay waste to the world like I promised,” she growls. “Do you think me so fickle I’d change my mind, Chrom?”

“Please, Grima. It won’t bring you peace,” Chrom says. “You don’t want to live in a bleak and miserable world any more than the people there do.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Grima cries. “I can bear the terrible fate if you’re there with me…”

The truth she does not speak is that she cannot bear anything more without him. The only time she knew happiness was as his tactician. She wishes that she were only that woman, that she had never and would never be the fell dragon, that they could have lived stupidly happy lives as ignorant humans… 

“Eir!” she snaps. “What are you waiting for? We’ve been here for ages already! Send us back!”

Eir walks forward slowly, coming to stand between Grima and Chrom.

“I’m not certain…” she murmurs.

“Hurry up,” Grima insists. “The Queen ordered you to send us home, did she not?”

Hesitantly, Eir raises her blade. It glows purple for a brief instant, and then… 

Nothing happens.

Eir lowers her blade, turning her head down.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s not going to work.”

“What?” Grima’s eyes widen. “How dare you… I was promised passage out of here! I followed Hel’s orders and never looked back! You have no right to keep us!”

“I can’t do anything about it,” Eir says. “I…”

“You lied to me!” Grima hisses furiously. “You and your mother both!”

She despises liars above all else. Those who would betray the ones relying on them… It’s unforgivable. They have no obligation to promise anything at all, so to promise and renege… It is but cruelty.

“It is not our fault!” Eir exclaims. “I told you that Lyfja would take you away when you were ready. But you are not ready. You don’t wish to leave. You don’t wish to live. And so I do not have the power to send you back.”

Grima clenches her fists.

“What do you mean?” she asks. “Of course I wish to live…”

“So you say…” Eir regards her with a look of deep understanding. “But you came to the world of death for a reason, didn’t you? For something more important than anything life could give you…”

Grima stares past Eir, looking into Chrom’s deep blue eyes. Maybe it’s not life that she desires, after all. What she wants, what she came here for, is right in front of her. Right here in the realm of the dead. If they go back, it is to a world of despair and ruin. If they stay here…

“When people have nothing left to hope for,” Eir says gently, “sometimes death is a kindness.”

At once, Chrom is again embracing her. She does not push him away now; it was painful enough to do it once. Life was never kind to her; but Chrom always was… 

She does not even feel the press of steel against her skin, but Chrom grows warmer and warmer against her, and she knows that it is the end of her. A kinder end than she deserves.

“Rest. I’ll watch over you,” Chrom whispers. “It’s all over now.”


End file.
